


Cigarettes and Sass

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 09:58:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2503697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most had thrown on jackets over their pajamas, as Castiel had. There was a man wearing only a pair of sleep pants, and looking rather smug about it with his six pack. Another girl was tugging a thin shift over her thighs. Someone had a small pomeranian clutched to their chest. On the periphery of the group, Castiel saw one of his neighbors leaning against the police barrier smoking. He had no idea where she had gotten the cigarette, the woman was only wearing panties and a bra. Black lace panties and a bra that were highly inappropriate to be out in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cigarettes and Sass

Castiel thought he was having another nightmare. One of those recurring ones, that he hadn’t had in years, where there was a low buzzing noise that steadily increased until he felt like his eardrums would burst. He would fall to his knees in these dreams with his hands clapped over his ears and he couldn’t shut out the noise, and no matter how hard he tried to scream over it, he was mute. They were weird nightmares. He’d be worried for their return, but as he tossed onto his side in his bed, he realized that the noise encroaching on his dreamscape was coming from reality and not his head.

It took him a few groggy moments to sit up and realize that it was the fire alarm in his apartment building going off. Well, that technically wasn’t good either. Throwing the sheets back and stuffing his feet in his fuzzy green slippers, Castiel shuffled to the front door of his apartment and threw his trench coat on, tossing his wallet inside before making his way out into the hall where people were bustling past, some looking tired and inconvenienced while others looked genuinely worried and panicked. 

Outside was even more chaotic than inside. There were police escorting tenants to an area off to the side, blue and red squad lights flashing across the building, and a fire truck came screeching around the corner. The apartment building was fairly small, only sixteen units, and there were about twenty people crowded together outside after the last few came jogging out. People were in various states of dress, rubbing blearily at their eyes, scowling at the inconvenience, scrolling their cell phones. 

Most had thrown on jackets over their pajamas, as Castiel had. There was a man wearing only a pair of sleep pants, and looking rather smug about it with his six pack. Another girl was tugging a thin shift over her thighs. Someone had a small pomeranian clutched to their chest. On the periphery of the group, Castiel saw one of his neighbors leaning against the police barrier smoking. He had no idea where she had gotten the cigarette, the woman was only wearing panties and a bra. Black lace panties and a bra that were highly inappropriate to be out in. 

He recognized her from a few brief encounters. She was usually loitering outside smoking when he came home from his shift at the antique shop. He had no idea why a smoker would decide to rent in a smoke free building. But it seemed more and more places were going that way, and the rent was good. She smoked strange black cigarettes that were rather fragrant, blowing the smoke out of her mouth always painted red, framed with two small round studs at the corners of her bottom lip. 

Castiel had said hello a few times, usually met with an arched eyebrow and smoke blown his way. She had made a vulgar comment once, but after he had scowled and hurried off she never said things like that to him. 

Standing out at gods knows what hour of the night in only her underwear, she looked entirely unaffected and uninterested in the proceedings. Castiel couldn’t help but notice that there was an intricate green snake tattoo weaving around one of her thighs. When she shifted and spoke to someone, he saw color across the backs of her shoulders but couldn’t tell what it was in the dim light and with her wavy hair falling loose down her back. 

She was impolite and crass and strange. Yet Castiel was intrigued by her. He stayed his distance, watching the proceedings as police talked with the owner of the building and fireman went in search of the source of the alarm. At least it didn’t look like anything was on fire, and he hoped that someone had accidentally tripped the alarm. 

Castiel kept glancing over to the woman smoking, concerned it might be chilly out, or for how some of the people regarded her. He noticed a young man start to approach her, but the intimidating glare she seemed to be well practiced with maintained a bubble around her. 

When a breeze picked up, Castiel weaved through the crowd and pushed past the protective barrier of her stare. He slipped out of his trench coat and offered it to her. 

She stood with that black cigarette dangling out of her lips and her arms crossed under her chest. 

“Would you like to borrow my coat?

She shrugged, “It’s not that cold out.”

“Honestly, you couldn’t have thrown on a bathrobe on your way out?”

“Hey, I sleep naked so this was throwing something on. I’d rather not dawdle and, you know, burn to death.” 

“Fair point.”

Castiel still held his coat out, arm extending, moving his hand up again to indicate she should take it. 

“I don’t know what games you’re playing at Clarence but this whole ‘polite human being’ thing,I’m not buying it.”

“My name is Castiel.”

“Oh yeah.”

“You never gave me your name.”

“Meg.”

“Please, you should cover up.”

“Why? You think my body is something I should be ashamed of? Does it make you nervous?”

“You’ll catch a cold, you’re not even wearing shoes.”

Meg glanced down at her feet, like she’d only just noticed she was barefoot on the cold concrete when he mentioned that, then she had to grab the cigarette from falling out of her mouth when she started laughing. 

“What the hell are you wearing on your feet?”

“Slippers.”

“Those are fuzzy abominations. Seriously?”

“They’re warm. “

“You’re fucking weird.”

“Like you’re one to pass judgement.”

She smiled at him, and it made him nervous. “Got a little sass to you huh, I like it.”

Finally she reached out and took his coat, putting her cigarette back in her mouth to shrug into it, but she let it hang open in the front, not bother to close it and tie it with the sash. 

“So, Clarence, Cas, what’s your game? You think you can pay your kindness to me and expect something back, you want some kind of favor in return?”

“I’m letting you borrow my coat for five minutes, I hardly see what that could be worth.”

“You remember when you tried to help me carry groceries up to my apartment?”

“Ah, yes that is coming back to me.”

He had seen her with her arms sagging under several heavy canvas bags of groceries, cigarette down to the butt and fumbling with the keys to the common door. Castiel had opened the door for her and offered to help her with her bags. She spit her cigarette onto the sidewalk in front of his feet and narrowed her eyes at him before continuing on her way. 

“People aren’t generally nice without wanting something.”

“Well I think that’s a shame.”

Meg shook her head slowly at him. “You lived in the city your whole life or you come from the country? Maybe a different era? Different planet?”

“I was raised in the country actually, on a farm. I come from a very large, very conservative family.”

“Yeah ok, that makes sense. So what’re you doing in the city?”

Castiel had to laugh at himself. He had told this story to a few people who were curious enough to ask, though they were few and far between. 

“I was following my dreams.”

Meg didn’t laugh back. She asked quietly, “Yeah?”

For as much as she came off as mocking when he was trying to polite, it seemed that she was completely serious now. 

“I wanted to be a dancer.”

She still didn’t laugh, smiled gently, but not unkind.

“Did you make it?”

“No.”

“What happened?”

“I twisted my knee.”

“Shit, that sucks.”

Castiel shrugged, he had made peace with unfortunate events a long time ago. “It happens.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“Have you always lived in the city?”

“Mhmm.”

“What do you do, for work?”

“I’m a tattoo artist.”

“Oh. Very nice.”

Meg narrowed her eyes at him, considering, her gaze flicking up from his fuzzy green slippers and the blue plaid flannel of his pajama pants to the oversized pink sweater with a kitten decal on it. She pursed her lips, squinting, thinking for a moment before asking earnestly, “Do you have any tattoos?”

“I do.”

“What do you have?”

“Ah, a cluster of birds spread over my upper back, and a line of musical notes across one hip.”

“That’s cool.”

“What are the ones on your back, I didn’t quite see those. But I do like the snake on your thigh.”

“Thanks.”

Meg turned around and shrugged his coat down, lifting her hair up to show off bat wings that spread along the natural contours of her scapula as she rolled them, making the wings move.

“Oh that’s lovely.”

She turned around, pulling the coat back up, flicking the dead butt of her cigarette aside, fingertips painted black. 

“You know, you’re not what I expected.”

“A lot of people say that.”

“I bet.” 

The police started yelling out to the crowd that the building was cleared, a false alarm. The firemen were getting back into their truck, people slowly filing back into the building. Castiel hung back from the people bottle necking at the door, Meg yawning and fidgeting with his coat. 

“Do you know what time it is?”

Castiel reached forward into the pocket of his coat, pulling out a small watch he kept there, hand brushing against her hip through the fabric. 

“It’s….. just past four thirty.” 

“Jesus.”

He frowned at his watch and slipped it back into the pocket, apologizing to Meg. 

“I don’t know if I should try to go to bed, I usually wake up by six anyway.”

“Might as well stay up and have some coffee.”

“I don’t have a coffee pot.”

“Fuck, why not.”

“My gerbil chewed through the cord.”

“Ok, one, why do you have a gerbil, and two, what the hell was it doing on the kitchen counter?”

“Augustine is a very intelligent gerbil.”

“Huh. Can’t be that smart if he’s chewing on cords.”

“Well of course he doesn’t have a concept of human technology.” 

“Yeah. Sure.”

Almost everyone was back in the building, a few lingering to ask questions of the cops. 

“If you want, I’ve got a coffee pot, you could come back to my place and have a cup.”

Castiel regarded her, hands sunk into the pockets of his coat, her eyes fixed on him. 

“I wouldn’t want to keep you up, if you have to go back to sleep.”

“Nah, I don’t really sleep much. You should come and show me your tattoos.”

He was fairly certain that was meant as a flirtation. It was often difficult to tell, of course Castiel had trouble de-coding most social interaction. But there was a teasing twist to her lips and she was standing close, close enough she had to look up to look into his eyes. 

“I would like that.


End file.
